It has taken me a while to feel like I can put into words the reality of Belle's death. As long as it seemed impossible, unreal, unfathomable...it was bearable. But as time marches on, the alien feeling of not seeing her on the couch...the empty sense of purpose, not needing to constantly keep her covered in blankets...the absence of her sitting in anticipation in front of her bowl at meal time...It has all become the new normal. And as the ghost of her presence in our home becomes less glaring, the truth of her being gone becomes more so.
Belle is gone. She is dead.
We will never again be rendered helplessly breathless from her frantic kissing.
We will never hear her plaintive "Where's my blankie?" whine.
We will never watch her run with abandon through the fields.
We will never see her greet other dogs in her silly, crazy, submissive way, sliding up to the dog on the side of her neck with her rump in the air.
We will never dance together again.
Her enthusiastic, somewhat spastic, backward circle around me...
Her joyful spins...Her pretty heeling...I find myself clinging desperately to pictures and video.
They will never adequately represent our Belle. But they are all we have left.
Miss you red dog. Love you.
